


Swapped

by palelinski



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Dean Winchester, POV Multiple, POV Stiles Stilinski, Superwolf
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 00:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4585800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palelinski/pseuds/palelinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sam's older brother restricts himself in the confinements of his bedroom, he finds it in himself to get down to the bottom of Dean's sudden 'hunter-phobia' -- Scott's best friend starts acting weird-weirder than usual-distant and unlike himself, and always on edge. For this reason, Scott takes it upon himself to figure out what's got Stiles on the verge of werewolf homicide. In summary, two unlikely worlds collide together when Dean Winchester gets body swapped for a younger model; a teenage one by the name of Stiles Stilinski.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What the hell is a Stiles?

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING:  
> THIS STORY MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR BOTH SUPERNATURAL AND TEEN WOLF. IF YOU ARE NOT CAUGHT UP WITH THEIR CURRENT SEASONS AND DECIDE TO CONTINUE READING ANYWAY, THEN YOU'RE READING AT YOUR OWN RISK.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED: 09.19.17:  
> Here's the revamped version of chapter one for SWAPPED. I hope you enjoy it!~

********  
****

**⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻  
** **_BEACON HILLS, CA_**

 

 

 _Thump..._  
Thump...  
Thump...

The faint thumping sound continued hitting against the window glass, it was loud enough to stir the sleeping hunter in his bed a mere foot away, drawing the oldest Winchester out of his sleep.

_Thump...  
Thump..._

The quiet room made the sound louder, causing Dean to grumble something incoherently as he rolled over onto his stomach, trying to block out the sound by burrowing his head underneath his covers and pillow.

It's too freakin' early for me to be awake right now. I was having a good dream about hot famous people serving me a pie.

It felt like he and Sam had just gotten back to the bunker from the witch hunt, but they arrived back in Lebanon this morning. Dean couldn't sleep the entire ride back, there was too much on his mind, but the feeling he had in the pit of his stomach was the real reason for his lack of sleep.

After a moment of fighting with himself about rather or not he should get up, Dean groaned in defeat and sluggishly sat upright in his bed, the covers pooling around his frame in the process. In a somewhat sleepy daze, the hunter turned himself to the side to stare with half open eyes at what looked to be a window. Dean's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as he wondered if they always had windows in the bunker. Then he realized that they don't have windows in the bunker because it's underground.

Thinking he wasn't fully awake yet, Dean closed his eyes and rubbed at them with the palms of his hands, then dropped them back into his lap as he blinked away any remaining sleep. But when he opened his eyes back up, the window was still there. He stared confusingly at it, silently watching trickles of rain hit and slide down the glass.

_Okay, so not a dream. What the hell...when did the bunker magically get a view underground?_

Something wasn't right. Dean blinked before he began looking around the room he was in, the streams of sunlight beaming through the window allowed enough light for the hunter to get a good look at the room.

_All right, what the hell._

Not only was he no longer in the confinements of his bedroom back at the bunker, but he wasn't even at the bunker anymore.

_What the hell--_

The room looked like it belonged to a messy teenager, there were pieces of paper littered all on the floor around his bed, and crooked posters hanging on the walls. Even the bookshelf against the wall across from him where the door was had dismayed books, and a few DVDs on it.

_Seriously, what the hell!_

He also took notice of the semi-large desk on the right side of the room where a laptop rested along with more scattered pieces of paper. Dean was starting to believe this was all just some weird dream he was having, that was, until he tried pinching himself awake, and ended up staring wide eyes at his arms. Instead of seeing his usual somewhat tanned muscular arms, he was greeted with pale lanky ones.

_What the--_

More confusion washed over his face, his hands moving of their own accord and roamed his body, starting with touching his chest first before moving up to touch his face.

_This isn't my body._

Although this wouldn't be the first time Dean had a dream about switching bodies with someone. Yeah, it's happened. It was usually with a really hot woman or man, though, but what he couldn't figure out is why he would in his right mind want to be a teenager again. He took a deep breath and shook his head to focus, and quickly pinched himself on his forearm to wake himself up, which actually hurt, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

When the hunter opened his eyes, panic washed over his face, and his stomach sank as he was greeted by the same room that wasn't his.

_What the hell--it's not a dream?!_

Dean felt his heart pounding against his chest, his hunter instinct kicking in as he threw the covers off himself and jumped out of bed, nearly tripping over the mess on the floor in the process.

_What the hell--_

_WHAT. THE. HELL._

And as if things couldn't get any worse, there was a hard knock at the door that caused him to jump about a foot off the ground, and take a cautious step forward.

_Maybe it's Sam, and he's magically turned into a teenager, too--_

"Stiles, you awake yet?"

_Okay, that's definitely not Sam--_

Dean stared with wide eyes at the door, his eyebrows furrowed down in confusion, wondering what the hell was a 'Stiles.' He didn't have much time to ponder the thought when another knock came, causing him to not-so-subtly run over to the door and press his back against it. He just needed a moment or longer to gather his thoughts, which were a whirl of confusion, panic, and more confusion.

With his heart thumping so loudly in his ears, Dean glanced down at the rest of his body, his hunter instincts telling him to check for a weapon on hand, but his mind was sidetracked by the new body he was wearing. He moved his hands to rest palm flat against his chest, and then slightly leaned forward so that he could get a better view.

_Oh, great, I'm even shorter now!_

At least it wasn't by much, he couldn't exactly tell how tall he was just by glancing down at himself. This new body also was not as lanky as he previously thought, Dean did have some muscle on him, but not much. Still, he wasn't too bony like most teenagers were.

"Stiles?"

The voice behind the door interrupted, sounding almost annoyed.

Dean gave a startled jump when he heard the doorknob jiggle, causing him to instinctively hit his back against the door again, pressing himself against it in fear that whoever was on the other side might try and come in. Now, it wasn't like he couldn't have handled himself, but considering he's in a teenager's body who's probably never fought in his life, he thought better of it.

_Crap. Crap, crap, crap. What do I do...what the hell do I do?!_

Without really thinking, he leaped away-yes, Dean Winchester freaking leaped away from the door and just stood there, watching in panic as the door slowly and cautiously crept open.

"You better be decent, kid."

Dean heard the man say as he watched the door open wide enough to reveal an older man poking his head through, checking to make sure he was, in fact, decent before opening the door the rest of the way and stepped inside, now standing just a foot or so away from where he stood.

When the man didn't speak again, he took the silence as an opportunity to get a good look at the man. Dean noticed the man was wearing a uniform, a policeman one judging from the gold 'Sheriff' star located on the left side of the man's shirt, just opposite of where his nameplate was.

_Sheriff Stilinski, huh? The hell kinda' name is Stilinski anyway?_

A look of concern came from Sheriff Stilinski, which you could detect from the sound of his voice when he finally spoke.

"You okay, Stiles?"

Dean inhaled deeply, a part of him wondering who the hell this 'Stiles was as he tried calming himself down. It wasn't easy considering Sheriff Stilinski begun to approach him, but not in a threatening manner. Still, he was confused about what was going on and so he stumbled backward, and away from the guy, being fully cautious of his surroundings. Hell, for all Dean knew, the man probably wanted to hurt him.

There were a lot of thoughts going through his head, one being that he didn't have any of his weapons anymore, so he couldn't even defend himself if this guy, in fact, tried to attack him. And that caused the hunter to slightly panic, but then he remembered his training and fighting skills, thinking even if he was in a smaller body, Dean could probably handle himself against the man or at least try to, anyway.

Another struck of panic coursed through him as he realized something.

_Wait, if I'm not in my body anymore...then where the hell is Sam?! SON OF A BITCH--_

Dean's eyes widened in the slightest, making sure to keep his composer on the outside as he inwardly groaned. He needed to sit down, there were too many thoughts rushing in, it made him feel nauseous as he thought about where Sam was, about all of the possible and horrible scenarios the younger brother could be in. Dean's mind always rushed to conclusions, he didn't even care about his current situation at the moment, he just desperately hoped that Sam was okay and safe wherever he may be.

"Stiles, are you sure you're okay?"

He heard Sheriff Stilinski ask again, the man's tone full of concern.

_No, I'm not okay! I don't freakin' know who this 'Stiles' is, or where the hell my brother is!_

Instead of saying what was on his mind, Dean remained silent and moved to lower himself down on the edge of his bed, taking a seat. He moved his elbows to rest on his legs as he lowered his head into the palms of his hands, hiding his face with a quiet sigh.

_How the hell did this even happen?? Where the hell is Sam?? Why the hell am I here, and trapped inside someone else's body?? AND WHY THE HELL DID IT HAVE TO BE A TEENAGER?!_

Dean couldn't wrap his mind around anything right now, and minutes passed, which felt like hours to him. He could feel Sheriff Stilinski's stare on him, no doubt still waiting for some kind of response from Dean.

"You look like you're gonna' throw up, son."

Sheriff Stilinski said, finally breaking the silence as the man took a step towards Dean just as he looked up from his hands, staring up at the guy with a come-any-closer-and-I-just-might expression. That caused the Sheriff to chuckle and put his hands up as if surrendering, then stood a few inches away from Dean.

"Yeah, well, I just might."

Dean found himself responding, his tone edged with bitterness.

_WHOA-what the hell was that? Was that my voice?? IS THAT WHAT I SOUND LIKE NOW?!_

Hearing his voice for the first time in this body caused Dean to groan, and once again burrow his face back into the palms of his hands, then ran them up and through his hair, which he noticed was shorter than his own-not by much, though. His voice sounded higher, too, but luckily not in the I-haven't-hit-puberty-yet way.

"Stiles?"

Sheriff Stilinski called out to Dean, which caused the hunter to look up at the man who looked somewhat impatient with him.

Unsure of what to say, Dean said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Sorry-Dad, I'm not, uh, feeling well."

His words came out carefully, the first part sounding more unsure than he intended because he wasn't sure if this man was supposed to be this kid's father or not.

_Now that I think about it. Who is this guy? There's no way he's this guy's boyfriend. He's too old, for one thing! Besides, he's treating me like I'm his son._

Dean was almost positive that Sheriff Stilinski was, in fact, this kid's dad.

He wasn't quite sure when he became so tense, probably when he questioned himself about rather or not this man was 'Stiles'' dad, but his body relaxed when Dean noticed Sheriff Stilinski's shoulders relax, giving him confirmation that he was, in fact, his son.

Dean felt his heart beat loudly in his ears when he saw the Sheriff walk towards him, and crouch down in front of him. It took everything he had not to flinch away when the man pressed his hand against Dean's forehead. Trying to calm himself down, he took a deep breath, but still, he felt extremely uneasy.

"Doesn't seem like you have a fever."

Sheriff Stilinski said as he removed his hand from Dean's forehead, then straightened himself back up and took a step back, and looked down at him with the same concerned look.

"Yeah, but I don't feel good."

Dean replied too quickly, which he hoped Sheriff Stilinski didn't notice his uncertainty.

"Then I'll drive you to the hospital for a check-up. But if nothing's wrong with you, Stiles--"

Sheriff Stilinski paused to point a stern finger at Dean, just like a father would.

"You're going straight to school. Now get dressed."

Sheriff Stilinskki finished, giving Dean no room to argue his way out of the school part, which he completely forgot about until now.

_Shit. I haven't been to school in years. How the hell am I going to pull that off?_

Dean groaned to himself, almost shaking his body like a toddler would if they didn't get their way.

However, before the hunter could get around to doing anything, Sheriff Stilinski paused halfway out of the door and turned back around.

"You're not tricking me into taking you to the hospital, are you?"

The Sheriff questioned dubiously, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared Dean down. His eyes widened in the slightest, unsure of what to say since he wasn't entirely sure as to why he would this man into taking him to the hospital. In truth, a part of him wanted to check and see if his body was there, that was a grim thought, but being a Winchester, there's no limit as what could happen to them.

_If I'm in this kid's body...does that mean he's in mine? Wait, where the hell am I, anyway?_

Dean inwardly groaned-that would mean whoever's in his body is still back at the bunker with Sam, which also meant his younger brother wouldn't be looking for him right away, not unless his brother figured out that Dean was no longer himself.

Because Dean didn't answer right away, Sheriff Stilinski sighed deeply and uncrossed his arms from his chest, then walked back inside the room.

"Look, Stiles. I know you and your friends want to help out, but leave this one to the authorities. I don't need you or your friends sneaking into the morgue, messin' in something you shouldn't."

Sheriff Stilinski said sternly, making sure he got the point across to Dean, which only confused the hunter more.

_Why would the hell this kid trick his dad into taking him to the hospital and check out a dead body? And here I thought my family had problems._

"... Does that mean I'm not going to the hospital?"

Dean asked after a minute of silence, which caused Sheriff Stilinski to run his hands over his face and sigh.

"Yes, Stiles. That means you're not going to the hospital,"

Sheriff Stilinski confirmed before turning back around and walked out of the room, but not before speaking again over his shoulder.

"So get dressed and meet me downstairs. You're going to school, and that's final."

The door closed behind the Sheriff, leaving behind a confused and angry Dean.

_Great! Now I have to go to freakin' school. No way-I need to buy more time._

Throwing his arms up in frustration, Dean stood up from his seat and began to pace at the foot of his bed.

"Sonuvabitch."

Dean hissed, his hands running down his face in annoyance. There were a couple of monsters that could have done this to him, even a few he knew of personally. Crowley is the first to come to mind, but he hasn't really spoken to him-Rowena was another possibility, but Dean hasn't seen her either, and then there was Lucifer. But there's just no way he's responsible since he's locked back up in the cage. If he's being honest, everything was starting to feel like witch magic, which only confused Dean more because hasn't hunted any witches since...

_SONUVABITCH!_

If it was a witch, then it had to have been the one he and Sam hunted in Riverside. But he still couldn't figure out why? Why would she do that? What could she possibly have gained from swapping his body with a teenagers'? Nothing made sense to him right now, and it was becoming all too frustrating for Dean, he needed answers now and his rushed thoughts weren't helping him any.

Dean needed to figure things out, and quickly, there was no way he could keep up this charade. It's been far too long since he's been a teenager. Well, actually, there was that time he turned back into one by a witch, which brought up the thought of why turn Dean into not only a teenager again but as someone else? It didn't make sense.

Before he could do any more thinking on the thought, there was a loud buzzing sound coming from somewhere inside the room. Dean twirled himself around, and leaped back onto the bed, crawling further up the bed as he made his way towards the headboard. The sound was coming from under the pillows, which he figured was no doubt this kid's phone.

_Yeah, all right! I hear you!_

Dean grunted, then yanked one of the pillows up from his bed, tossing it over his shoulder and onto the floor somewhere behind him. He pulled out a sleek white phone, it looked like that one Sam was gawking over in the store awhile back...what was it called? An HTC One Mini, or something like that.

_Man, you're fugly._

He stared distastefully at the device in his hand as he turned it over, examining it. Dean was thankful at least that he was able to find a phone, it meant that he could call Sam. And at that realization, he quickly turned the phone back over and pressed the button on the side, turning it on. Dean could have leaped with joy, happy this kid left his phone unlocked.

Dean chuckled before frowning, his eyes squinting down at the small screen of the phone, now realizing that he didn't fully understand how to use the damned thing. He briefly wished he would have listened to Sam's explaining of Today's technology, especially phones.

"Shit."

He cursed under his breath as he began to randomly click on things, then he noticed the kid had quite a few apps and he didn't recognize a single one of them. They had too many damn apps in his opinion, with their Bookface and Titter, or whatever the hell they were called.

"Just gonna press this one...maybe this one's it,"

Dean's words were cut short when he dropped the phone, it slipping out of his hand and back onto the covers. Surprised, he fell back and off the bed, landing butt first on the floor as he stared with wide eyes up at his bed and where the phone was. Dean had accidentally clicked on the camera app, which was right next to the phone app. The camera just happened to be on front view, and so, he got a good look at his new face.

_Is that what I look like now? It could have been worse. It still could._

He shook his head before pulling himself up from the floor to stand, then leaned over the bed and snatched up the phone, quickly exiting the camera app.

"Stupid-Today's-technology."

Dean found himself muttering as he finally figured out where the phone app was. The phone let out a row of quick clicks as he dialed Sam's number, then lifted the phone up to his ear and waited for Sam to answer.

"Damn it, Sam, answer your phone."

He hissed when the phone continued ringing. Unfortunately, after a short minute, the ringing stopped and it was followed by a beep before Sam's voice spoke through the receiver.

"Hey, it's Sam. Leave me a message,"

"Sonuvabitch!"

Dean angrily cursed, cutting Sam's voicemail off as he swiped at the red 'end' button, ending the call. He tossed the phone back onto the bed, then ran his hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down. Dean knew he was going to have to call Sam again, his brother was his only way of figuring out how to get him out of this damned body.

"Guess I really do have to keep up this freakin' charade for now, at least."

He grumbled, he couldn't believe this was happening to him-almost-Dean was too used to getting fucked over. With an inward groan, he glanced down at what he was wearing. He had on a pair of light blue and gray plaid pajama bottoms with a loose white tee-shirt. A sigh fell past Dean's lips as he turned around and made his way to the kid's closet, deciding he might as well change and get ready for school, which was something he was absolutely dreading.

When Dean opened Stiles' closet, he was greeted with a mess of scattered clothes on the floor, which he assumed were dirty and looked through the clothes that were hanging.

This kid's got too many hoodies, he could start a freakin' store from with how many he's got.

He tossed countless hoodies over his shoulder, them landing somewhere behind him on the floor as he looked for something to wear.

 

**⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻**

 

After about five minutes, or so, of rummaging through the boys closet, Dean managed to find some clothes to wear and got dressed. He was now wearing a black tee-shirt with a light blue and gray plaid button-up shirt, somewhat loose dark blue jeans, and a pair of white Nike's.

_Man, this kid could use more plaid in his wardrobe._

Dean noted to himself as he stepped over the clothes on the ground, not even bothering with picking them up.

"Let's go, Stiles!"

Sheriff Stilinski called out, the man's patience was wearing thin from his tone.

Dean rolled his eyes as he walked back over towards the bed, and snatched up the phone from his bed, shoving it inside one of the front pockets of his jeans before turning around. He picked up the black backpack on his way out the door, slinging one of the straps over his right shoulder.

_This is ridiculous. I'm a grown man, damn it-I shouldn't have to go to school._

"I thought you might have gotten distracted by your computer again, thought I was gonna have to go up there and get you."

Sheriff Stilinski said once Dean reached the bottom of the stairs, the man was waiting for him by the door with his hands on his hips.

"Probably not a good idea you do that-I mean, I am a teenager after all and I was taking a really long time, which means I could have been watching por-"

Dean began before he was cut off by Sheriff Stilinski raising his hand to shut him up.

"Yeah, no, I got it. I don't need to know what you do on your computer, Stiles. Let's just go."

A smirk found its way on Dean's lips as he chuckled at the man's reaction, and shook his head from side to side. The poor guy was going to remember this moment for a long time, which was funny to him since all he did was take forever getting dressed, but Sheriff Stilinski will never know that.

Sheriff Stilinski opened the front door and stepped outside, behind him, Dean hesitantly followed out of the house and down the short steps. His grip on the strap of his backpack tightened.

_Be cool, Dean. It's just high school. You were cool in high school, you can do this._

Dean let out a breath he was holding, and then gave a short nod of his head, he was determined to get through the day. And if that meant parading around as a teenager-again-then that's what he'll do.

"Stiles? Aren't you forgetting something?"

Sheriff Stilinski asked behind Dean, causing the hunter-turned teen to turn around and stare at him, dumbfounded.

_What? What did I forget?_

Dean looked up and tilted his head in the slightest, then glanced down at himself to check and make sure he had everything with him, which from what he could see, he did.

"No?"

He said, unsure.

Sheriff Stilinski stared thoughtfully at Dean, no doubt judging him and wondering if his son actually was sick.

"You forgot your keys."

The Sheriff said, then tossed a pair of keys over to Dean. He caught them easily and stared at them for a second before looking back up at the man.

"Oh, right...I'll probably need these."

Dean chuckled, nervously glancing down at the keys in his hand as he used his other one to rub the nape of his neck.

"Probably. I'll see you after school."

Sheriff Stilinski chuckled back, then walked towards his Sheriff's car and opened the driver's side door, but before he climbed in, he turned to Dean and called out to him.

"And, Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

Dean asked as he looked up, feeling tense as he wondered if he forgot anything else.

"Stay away from the case. I mean it."

Was all Sheriff Stilinski said before turning his back to Dean, and climbed into the car, closing the door after him. Knowing he didn't forget anything else helped Dean relax, his shoulders slumping. He watched as the man started the vehicle, pull out of the driveway and head down the street, leaving Dean waving an awkward goodbye.

"Wait, how the hell am I getting to school?"

Dean asked out loud to himself. If he wasn't going to hitch a ride with the Sheriff, then who? There was no way in hell he was walking, and not because he was lazy, but he had no clue as to where this school even was located.

He was almost relieved that he didn't have a way to the school, but if he didn't attend, then people would talk and he didn't want to raise suspicion. Sighing, Dean turned to go back inside the house, but out the corner of his eyes, he spotted a blue Jeep. It was parked in front of the house, he briefly wondered how he didn't notice it before, it looked like a sore thumb to him.

"No. No way."

Dean scoffed, shaking his head as he approached the jeep.

"There's no way in hell that I'm driving this crap."

Dean complained as he stood in front of the jeep, and crossed his arms over his chest, but only briefly before he moved them to rest by his sides, then sighed deeply.

_No one has to know._

Shrugging, he walked around the jeep to the driver's side and stopped in front of it, using the keys he was given to unlock the door, tossing his backpack onto the passenger's seat before climbing inside. Dean rested his forehead against the steering wheel after closing the door, then sighed in annoyance. Leaning back, he slipped the key into the ignition and started the jeep up, the engine sputtering to life, which he noticed it could use a few tinkering with, at least it would give him something to do while he thought of a way to leave this damn place.

 

**⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻**

 

When he pulled into the school's parking lot, Dean parked across from the entrance of the high school, peering out the windshield of Stiles' jeep and stared straight ahead at the high school before him. It didn't take much investigating to figure out where Stiles went to school, there weren't that many schools in the area Stiles lived it, and because this one was the closest, it had to be it.

 _Beacon Hills High School_.

"Just lay low, Dean."

He sighed to himself before taking the keys out of the ignition, then opened the driver's side door and climbed out, but not before grabbing his backpack from the passenger's seat first. Dean inhaled deeply after closing and locking the jeep after he was out, mentally preparing himself for the horror show that will be today.

There were students scattered around the campus, some in front of the building, few entering the building, and others by their cars in the schools parking lot. Dean was surprised he made it in time, and that there were a few extra minutes to spare before the first bell, he was assuming at this point, that all school schedules were the same.

"Stiles!"

Someone called out that damn name already, it startled Dean enough that he turned around to face wherever the voice came from.

_Just remain calm._

Dean inhaled deeply as he noticed someone approaching him from the other side of the parking lot, he took the distance as an opportunity to get a good look at them. He noticed they were tall, probably around the same height as he was now, if not a little taller. They had short dark-brown hair, it almost looked black, and he was tanner than Stiles. When the boy came closer, Dean noticed their jawline was slightly crooked, but you wouldn't notice from first glance, he briefly wondered why he did.

"Hey, _you_."

He greeted, slowly, and cautiously. When the boy finally reached him, Dean's words trailed off, he didn't know the kid's name. That made him nervous, he could tell the kid seemed close to Stiles, and if that was the case, then Dean's screwed.

"You okay?"

The boy asked, clearly concerned for his friend's well-being. And for a moment that didn't last long, Dean wondered if he should just tell this kid everything, come clean, and tell him that his name isn't Stiles, that he has no clue where his friend actually is, but he dismissed the thought immediately. There was no way he could drag this innocent kid into his messed up world.

"I'm fine, I just didn't get much sleep last night."

Dean shrugged, it wasn't an entire lie. He really didn't get much sleep the night before, actually, it's been more than one night, but he can't think about that right now. He walked past the kid, hoping it didn't seem too out-of-character of Stiles, and that the kid wouldn't ask any more questions. But judging from the kid's expression, he wanted to ask a question, but he didn't say anything and followed beside Dean instead.

They walked in silence to the entrance of their school, it was both awkward and nerve-racking for Dean. He had no idea where anything in this school was, let alone where his classrooms were, but he couldn't ask anyone for help, especially someone who might know Stiles.

Dean gave a glance at the kid next to him, who was texting on his phone with his head down.

_Since I don't know his name, I'm going to call him Crooked-Jaw in my head from now on._

"Kira just texted, she wants to know if we'll meet her in the library after lunch? She says it's important."

Crooked-Jaw said, breaking the silence, and Dean from his thoughts as he watched the kid type a quick message on his phone before sliding it inside his jacket pocket. He looked up at him, still waiting on a reply from Dean.

"Oh, uh, right. Okay."

Dean replied, unsure. It wasn't as if he could just say what he really wanted to, like, where the library was, what's the kid's damn name, or who the hell was this Kira and why does she need to see us in the right away-no, that would just raise more questions, and Dean probably wouldn't be able to handle that.

Crooked-Jaw stared for only a moment, he could tell that the kid still wanted to ask him something, but just as before, he said nothing and only nodded his head, patting Dean on his back.

"Okay. I'll see you later then."

He waved goodbye as Crooked-Jaw walked away, disappearing behind a classroom door. Dean let out a deep breath, his head dropping as his shoulders drooped, finally feeling at ease. But it didn't last long, the bell rang loudly, alerting students that it was time for their first period. He groaned, shaking his head before he began his slow walk down the hallway.

_Man, this is gonna be a long freakin' day._

 

**⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻**

 

_I'm gonna be so freakin' late._

Dean's been walking around this damn school for about ten minutes now, peeking through each door and looking around every corner, searching for the main office.

"Stiles?"

Someone called from behind him, their voice left Dean to believe it was a young girl. And he was correct, seeing as when he turned around, he came face to face with a girl who was about a foot shorter than Stiles. She took a step towards Dean and stood in front him with a faint smirk on her lips, leaving a short silence to fall between them, which gave him the chance to get a good look at her like he did with Crooked-Jaw.

The first thing he noticed, obviously, was that she was shorter than him, and she had medium length red hair, it reminded him of that mer-chick-Ariel, he guessed it was probably because of her hair color.

Ariel cleared her throat to regain Stiles' attention, her foot lightly tapping against the marble floor of the school with her hands resting on her hips, that were jutted out in the slightest. Dean could just tell she was full of sass, and unlike Crooked-Jaw, she wasn't going to leave him alone.

"You okay? You seem lost."

She asked, her hazel-green eyes squinting up at Dean. He couldn't stop the roll of his eyes, he was already tired of people asking him that. Honestly, he gets enough of that question from Sam and Cas to last him a lifetime, and he doesn't need to hear it from complete strangers, too, even if the question's not exactly directed to him but Stiles.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that? I'm fine."

Dean huffed, and this caused Ariel to give a roll of her own eyes.

"Because Scott said you're acting weird and he's right, you are acting weird."

Ariel huffed back, her arms moving to cross over her chest as she stared at Dean, her gaze unrelenting.

"I told Scott I'm okay, too, so everyone should stop asking me that."

Dean retorted, his tone edged with a warning. Ariel gave him a look, one that wanted to question him about something, just like the other kid, Scott, even if he hated all these questions, he was relieved to finally know the name of Crooked-Jaw, though. But just like Scott, she didn't say what she wanted to and only huffed, her arms uncrossing to rest at her sides.

"Whatever. You better hurry and get to class, you're already late."

With that being all she said, Ariel walked past Dean and down the hallway, disappearing around a corner. He shook his head as a sigh of relief left him, thinking that was too close a call. He really needed to lay low, but Stiles' friends were making that very difficult.

Dean headed down the hallway, resuming his search for the main office. It felt like he'd been searching for an hour now, but luckily he found the office when he rounded a corner. He walked inside and stopped in front of the large desk in the room.

"Can I help you with something, Stiles?"

An older woman asked, her smile barely reaching the corners of her eyes.

"Listen, sweetheart, I'm already late as it is, so I'll make this quick. I lost my schedule, and I can't remember it for my life, so print or write me a new one because I have no idea where I'm going," Dean said.

It was probably the most truthful thing he's said all day. The woman stared at him with wide eyes, clearly in disbelief that a student would talk to her in that way, let alone Stiles, but she didn't say anything about his rude behavior. Instead, she began typing something into the computer that was in front of her before standing up from her seat and walked over to what he assumed was a printer.

"Here's your schedule, and a hall pass."

The woman said as she handed Dean a white piece of paper with his schedule on it, and a light blue piece of paper that would prevent him from getting in trouble for being late. He thanked her before turning around and leaving the main office, making sure to shove the blue slip inside the back pocket of his jeans.

Once outside in the hall, Dean held out his schedule in front of him, which read:

First Period:  
**• Biology with Mrs. Harris**  
Second Period:  
**• Chemistry with Ms. Martin**  
Third Period:  
**• World History with Mr. Yukimura**  
**• Lunch Period follows World History**  
Fourth Period:  
**• English with Mr. Blake**  
Fifth Period:  
**• Economics with Coach Finstock**  
Sixth Period:  
**• Science with Ms. Myers**

Dean hadn't realized when he started walking again until he stopped in front of the boys' bathroom, sighing at his schedule. He was hungry, having not eaten anything at all today because of his current predicament, so he couldn't think about eating this morning. And for the moment, the only thing he was worried about was food and when it will be served, which to his disappointment wasn't until later on, after History.

"Stilinski!"

A deep, loud voice yelled from behind Dean. It started him and caused him to jump in his spot before quickly turning around. He came face to face with a tall, older man who he assumed was a teacher. An angry one at that.

"Yeah?"

Dean asked, with caution. The man seemed really angry with him for someone, or maybe it was that way with everyone he talked to, he's hoping it's the latter.

"You better not be late to Lacrosse practice again."

The man said, warningly. He was holding a clipboard up with one hand and pointed his index finger at Dean, while the other hand was balled up into a fist that rested on his hip.

_What the hell is Lacrosse?_

Dean mentally cursed himself, it sounded like a sports game or something, and now he was going to have to look it up on his phone later. He wondered why Stiles couldn't have played Football, or have joined wrestling like a normal teenager, why did it have to be Lacrosse? It sounded weird.

"Are you listening to me, Stilinski?!"

The man yelled. Dean nodded his head quickly, this guy kind of scared him for some reason. He figured it was because of all the yelling he was doing and the fact that this guy was larger than him, and would probably punch him if he talked back.

"Then get to class before I write you up for detention."

Dean didn't like being ordered around but since he can't exactly argue his way out of here, he had no choice but to accept anything that happened to him here. The man didn't give him a chance to respond and walked away, disappearing inside a classroom that read Economics.

"Oh, great."

Dean grumbled. It meant that that angry man was his teacher and coach, Mr. Finstock. He shook his head and turned away, walking down the hallway to his first period, Biology with Mrs. Harris.

 

**⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻**

 

Towards the end of World History, Dean had become irritable. He was hungry, and if he doesn't eat for a long period of time, he's cranky. So, instead of paying attention to whatever Mr. Yukimura was talking about, he glared at the clock in front of the classroom that was on the wall.

_If time goes any slower, I swear to Chuck, I'll gank someone._

Luckily, the bell finally rang and signaled students, letting everyone know that it was lunchtime.

_YES! Finally, it's chow time._

Dean quickly put his school supplies that were sprawled across his desk away and into his backpack before zipping it up. He then stood up and slung the backpack strap over his right shoulder before walking out of the classroom, heading down the hallway towards the lunchroom.

"Stiles, wait up!"

Stiles yelled from behind him. Dean recognized his voice, and even remembered his name. He felt a little bummed out, though, because he couldn't call him Crooked-Jaw anymore.

When he turned around, Dean watched as Scott jogged up to him, but unfortunately for him, he wasn't alone. Scott was accompanied by three other kids, one of them being Ariel who Dean recognized from her red hair. The other two he didn't know, nor had he met them yet, but judging from their expressions, they knew Stiles.

_Great._

Dean took the time it would take for them to reach him to quickly look the two he didn't recognize over. He noticed the one Ariel was talking to first, she had short semi-dark-brown hair that barely went past her shoulders. The other one was a girl right next to Scott that was holding his hand, she had long black hair that reached her chest.

"Oh, hey."

Dean greeted them once they finally reached him, thankful that he sounded a little more normal now, normal to them, at least.

"We're all going out for lunch today. You want to come?"

Scott asked. But before Dean could answer, Ariel quickly added to that.

"Oh, he doesn't have a choice. You're going, Stiles."

The girl Ariel had been whispering to laughed before she broke in.

"You know, Lydia, he might have other plans."

_So her name's Lydia...Crap. That means I have to learn the others names, also._

Dean couldn't bother with saying anything right now, he was only half listening to them because all he could think about was food. He really wanted a burger more than anything, and some pie for desert.

"Wait, I could really go for a burger right now. And some pie, too."

He suggested, a wide grin on his face that only grew when they nodded their heads in agreement. They didn't have anything more to say, so they walked past Dean and headed down the hallway, with him following right behind.

_Looks like today won't be all that bad._

 

**⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻**

 

Dean decided to let Scott drive the death trap that was Stiles' blue jeep since he didn't know where any burger joints were that also served pie-he also didn't want Stiles' friends to get suspicious if they saw him driving aimlessly around town looking for food places that Stiles probably knows the direction of. Instead, Dean told them that he didn't fee like driving since he hadn't eaten anything all day, that he would lose focus and probably crash the jeep. It was a lame excuse, but luckily for him, they didn't question him about it.

"So, do you think we've seen the last of the Ghost Riders?"

Dean heard Allison ask from the backseat. It didn't look like she was specifically talking to him, so he only half paid attention to their conversation. Though he did wonder what the hell a Ghost Rider was, it sounded like some kind of superhero from Marvel.

"Yeah, I don't think we'll have a problem with them anymore."

Scott assured her, but he didn't seem all that confident with his own answer. Allison didn't seem to notice this and nodded her head before sitting all the way back in her seat. Dean really wanted to ask what the hell they were talking about, but he couldn't without risking exposing that he wasn't Stiles. Not until he was sure he could trust them, anyway.

"Oh, yeah. Why were you in the office today? I saw you go in there after I left."

Lydia asked. Now this question was directed at him and Dean panicked, he thought she had left after they talked. He glanced over his shoulder to look at her and gave a small smile, making sure to keep his resolve on the outside.

_Okay. Don't panic, Winchester. Just lie. You're good at that._

"I, uh, lost something and thought someone woulda' turned it into the office. But it wasn't there. Think it's probably at home."

Dean answered before turning back around and faced the front, staring out the windshield. He hoped his answer was enough that they wouldn't question him any more than that, and they didn't.

"You should keep track of your stuff, Stiles."

Lydia laughed before her attention turned to Allison-Dean found out her name when Lydia said it while they were talking, he didn't mean to eavesdrop, but it was a good thing he did. He also found out the other girl's name, Kira, which was thanks to Scott because he asked her a question. He couldn't remember what the question was, however, and he didn't really care. He was just happy they didn't ask him any more questions the rest of the ride.

"This place always has the best burgers."

Scott said. The ride to this burger joint wasn't very long, it was probably because it was close to their school.

"Yeah, but do they have pie?"

Dean regretted the question as soon as it left his mouth.

_Shit._

"You're joking, right? You're the one who brought _me_ here, saying the burgers and pie are the best in the world."

Scott chuckled. He was giving Dean a look, the same one from earlier that day when they first met. He wanted to ask him something, but just like before, he kept quiet.

"Yeah, ha-ha, 'course I'm joking."

Dean laughed, nervously. He hoped it didn't seem too out of the ordinary, and judging from the way Scott was looking at him, it was. But the boy didn't give him any time to speak so that he could convince them that he was okay, which he's kind of thankful for, he probably would have only made it worse.

"Are you okay-"

"Let's go~ I'm starving."

Lydia whined, cutting off Scott's question.

"Pie calls, ha-ha."

Dean laughed, once again sounding nervous as he hastily got out of the jeep and made his way into the quaint diner.

Once inside, they sat at a booth near the back. Dean was seated on the inside near the window with Scott in the middle and Kira next to him, while Lydia and Allison sat across from them. He felt crowded and wished Kira would have sat across with the girls.

Though, once Dean saw the waitress approach them, he completely forgot about his lack of personal space and grinned happily. He's been looking forward to this all morning while in that hell whole of a school, he even had half a mind to just skip the rest of his classes after lunch.

"Hi. Welcome to Hunny's, what can I get 'ya?"

"Hiya', sweetheart. Look, I'll make this quick because I know how you waitresses feel about customers who take too long. I want a double bacon cheeseburger. To drink, hmm, a beer would be great, and as for dessert, your best apple pie."

Dean grinned. Being a hunter, Dean's encountered, and slept with, his fair share of waitresses, and often than not, they would complain about customers taking too long to order something simple, so now when it came to ordering, he already knew what he wanted.

"You can't drink beer, Stiles, you're underage."

Lydia pointed out, a perfectly plucked eyebrow raised at him.

_Crap._

They were all looking at him as if he had grown another head, even the waitress seemed surprised by his manners. Dean slipped again and now Scott's looking at him the way he did in the car, no doubt with even more questions now.

"Ha-ha...I guess all those parties has me thinking I can drink just about anywhere now...ha-ha."

_Shut up, Dean, just. Shut. Up._

"Stiles, you've only been to three parties in your life."

Allison points out. Dean felt his heart sink into the pit of his stomach as he watched all pairs of eyes on him, the waitress looked uncomfortable and told them that she'd come back afterward. He had no idea what she meant by that and was pissed off, he was starving and she just left like she didn't have a job to do.

"You're acting weird, Stiles, weirder than usual. You okay?"

Scott asked. There wasn't enough room for movement, so he had his shoulders turned just a smidge and stared at Dean with concern, and slight caution. He wanted to slip under the table and crawl away from the stares, but he couldn't. It was all because of his damn mouth that he was forced to either play it cool or completely tell the truth. And right now, because of how hungry he is, Dean was on the verge of singing like a canary and telling them everything.

"If you buy me some pie, I'll tell 'ya the truth."

Dean finally said. It was exhausting trying to be someone else and there was just no point in it. If he wouldn't have slipped up this time, then he definitely would have at some point. So he might as well get this whole conversation over with, it wasn't like they would believe him anyway. But stranger things have happened.

They didn't say anything and agreed to buy Dean some pie, it was apple pie and it was, in fact, the best pie he had ever eaten. At least Stiles had good taste in food, he couldn't say the same for his music taste and vehicle choice.

"So, what exactly _is_ the truth?"

Allison asked once he finished his pie, she wasted no time in asking. He sighed and slouched in his seat, feeling much more relaxed now that he's eaten. Dean still had no clue how to even come out and start this conversation, but if he didn't start talking soon, then he never was.

"I'm **_not_** Stiles."

 

 

 **⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻  
** **_TO BE CONTINUED..._ **

 


	2. Sasquatch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED: 09.19.17:  
> It's still shorter than the first chapter but I added to it a bit. Future chapters, however, won't be this short...I'll try to make them not as short, at least. LOL

**_⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻  
LEBANON, KA  
_**

 

 

Stiles churned in his sleep, a grin on his face as he rolled over onto his back. He moved one of his arms to drape over his stomach while the other moved to tuck itself under his head. The dream he was having took the expected route he knew it would, a wet one. It was normal for Stiles to have these kinds of dreams. Though they didn't happen very often, when they do, it was only after he talked to a certain werewolf does he have these dreams.

_Derek Hale._

A tall, dark-haired man with brooding eyebrows and a facial expression that always made him seem like he was in a bad mood. Stiles never gave much thought to his sexuality. Sure, he's had fleeting crushes on guys before, but none like this before. It all started when he and Scott suspected Derek for being a murderer. It sounds bad, but it turned out that Derek was innocent. Ever since then, Stiles has found himself pining after the werewolf. He doesn't have the guts to tell him how he feels. He knows that Derek would never feel the same. And, his solution to that was having wet dreams about the sour wolf and pining from afar.

The dream continued to progress, becoming more steamy. Stiles began making soft sounds, letting out little moans. He wanted to stay in this dream forever. Unfortunately, he was stirred awake by the slight creak of his door being opened, followed by heavy footsteps creeping into his room. He was still half asleep, so he didn't pay any mind to it.

"Dean," A stern voice said.

"Dean, wake up!"

Stiles groaned, he was shaken awake by his shoulder. He smacked the hand away that woke him up, assuming it was his dad waking him up for school.

"Noo...five more minutes, dad," Stiles grumbled in protest. He slowly moved to have his back facing his dad and cuddled into his blankets, tucking his arms around his pillow as he brought it closer to him. There was no way he was ready to get up right now, not after the dream he was having.

"Damn it, Dean, wake up!" Came a warning before Stiles' pillow was yanked from right under him, and then hit in the head with it.

"All right! I'm up," Stiles yelled, kicking the covers off himself like a toddler would. He moved into a sitting position and ran a hand down his face. He yawned, stretching away any remaining sleep he may have as he blinked his eyes open. But instead of his dads usual beige uniform to greet him, it was a tall, flannel-wearing man with chestnut-brown, long wavy hair.

"Dude, what the hell were you dreaming about? I could hear you all the way from the library," The man implied, looking slightly disgusted.

Stiles couldn't bring himself to speak. Was he dreaming? He rubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands. He even went as far as to pinch himself, but at last, he wasn't dreaming.

"Um,"

His words fell short. There was nothing Stiles could think of to say at the moment, nothing that would make sense, at least. So he just stared blankly at the man and took in his surroundings. He definitely wasn't at home or in his room anymore, that was for sure. The walls were concrete, no windows in sight, barely any decorations except for one dresser with just a few pictures in frames, a nightstand next to the bed with a lap and...was that a porn magazine? All in all, it looked a bit lonely in here.

When he looked to the floor, there were clothes strewed out across the floor but not much, just a pair of pants and a few flannel shirts.

Remembering to when he first spoke, _his voice_  wasn't even his own anymore. It was a lot deeper and aged, huskier than his used to be. It made Stiles wonder what else had changed, so he stood up, walked right past the man who was apparently waiting for an answer and down the hallway.

Stiles had no idea where he was going but found it when he noticed a door open, it was the bathroom. He walked inside and closed the door behind him, then cautiously stepped in front of the medium sized mirror. He took a deep breath before slowly looking up to meet his own gaze in the mirror.

" _OH, MY, GOD._ I'M OLD! WHAT THE F...HOW DID THIS HAPPEN??"

He quickly placed a hand over his mouth to quiet himself and his rising panic. Stiles looked past himself and at the bathroom door, making sure his sudden outburst didn't grab the attention of the tall stranger. Once he was sure that there was no sign of someone outside the door, he looked back at his reflection. Stiles was no longer in his body. He found himself in an older, muscular man's body. Leaning in closer to the mirror, Stiles noticed small cuts and bruises on his face. The man had short brown, blonde-ish hair and green eyes. If he was being honest, the guy was kind of attractive...Okay, he was _very_ attractive.

There was a knock on the door that brought him back to reality. It caused Stiles to jump in his skin and turn around quickly, gripping the sink like it was his lifeline as he placed a hand over his heart and stared wide-eyed at the door.

"Dee, are you okay?"

"J-Just a minute. I'm... _pooping_ ," Stiles blurted, quickly smacking his forehead for saying something stupid. He quickly looked around the bathroom for a way to get out of here, but there were no signs of a way out. Not a single window in here either with only one door. He was beginning to wonder if the whole place was like this, with little exits and no windows.

_This can't be real. I'm still dreaming. Yeah. This is a DREAM. A very...vivid...dream._

"Dude, did you just say you're _pooping_?" Sasquatch asked.

" _No_ ," Stiles answered, sarcastically, "I'm rediscovering the big bang... _yes, I'm pooping_. What the hell else would I be doing in here?"

There was shuffling on the other side, it sounded like Sasquatch was stifling a laugh.

"Did... _are you laughing?"_  Stiles scoffed, "Why are you laughing? Pooping is no joke."

"Because the only thing you do in the mornings is," Sasquatch cleared his throat, "Stuff I wish I didn't know about."

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows, confused at first. He didn't know what this man was talking about until it hit him.

"Dude, no! I'm not mastur-... _I'M POOPING_ , OKAY?" Stiles huffed. He wondered how close these guys were that Sasquatch would even know that. He let out a sigh, "What kind of dream is this, anyway? I never dream of random guys, let alone about ones where I'm in their body."

"Dean, what the hell are you talking about?" Sasquatch asked.

Stiles groaned, pushing himself away from the sink and leaned his back against the wall next to the bathroom door, "Why do you keep calling me _Dean_?"

There was a long silence between them. It was so quiet on the other side that Stiles thought the man had walked off. But he was startled when the door busted open, Sasquatch kicking it down and stomping inside as if he didn't just almost break the door off its hinges.

Stiles stared open mouthed at what just happened. It wasn't the first time he's seen something like that but it still surprised him nonetheless. He flinched when he met the man's gaze, Sasquatch looked as if someone just told him there weren't going to be any more hair products starting today. He wasn't fully snapped back to reality until said man was gripping him by his collar and glaring daggers at him.

"Who are you and what the hell did you to my brother?" Sasquatch growled.

He didn't even give Stiles a chance to speak before dragging the teen-turned-man out of the bathroom and down the hallway. They didn't stop until they reached a library room with three rectangular wooden tables in the center. Sasquatch grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him into one of the wooden chairs.

"Holy crap, you're strong," Stiles mumbled, "What are you, a werewolf or something?"

Sasquatch huffed, "A werewolf?"

Stiles opened his mouth to respond but just like before, he didn't get a chance to when the man walked off. He didn't move, mostly too afraid to. If this man was, in fact, a werewolf or something else entirely, then it was in his best interests to stay put and figure out a more discreet way to escape. So, in his time of solitude, Stiles looked around the place more thoroughly. Searching for anything that he could use as a weapon or a way to escape but he couldn't find anything.

_This place looks like a wolf's den...maybe that's what it is.  
And Peter said there were no such places. Liar._

After disappearing around a corner, Sasquatch returned with a few questioning things in his large arms.

"Catch," Sasquatch ordered.

Stiles wanted to protest but he had no time to because whatever it was, the man had already tossed it at him. He quickly caught it and turned it over in his hand, immediately recognizing it. It was a sterling silver kitchen knife.

_Oh, God...He's going to cut me up with a kitchen knife._

"You know, I was kind of hungry," Stiles quipped, "But since I'm your guest. Shouldn't _you_  be making _me_  a sandwich?"

_Now is NOT the time to be sarcastic, Stiles._

Sasquatch grimaced, "Guess you're not a shifter or a werewolf."

The man still looked cautious of Stiles but he said nothing as he maneuvered his way around the room. It looked like he was searching for something at first, but Stiles soon came to realize he was pacing, anxiously.

Stiles scratched the back of his head, "Shifter?" He repeated, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"What's your name?" Sasquatch asked, ignoring Stiles' question.

"Stiles. And you are...?" Stiles asked after setting the knife down on the table. He looked back up, Sasquatch stared long and hard at him. It was like he was waiting for the 'ha! Gotcha!' but it never came.

"Sam. And that's my brother's body you're in," Sam pointed to Stiles. He was just as confused as Stiles was about what was happening. Even concerned but he figured it was more for the well-being of his brother than for him.

"You don't seem at all freaked out about this," Stiles commented.

Sam crossed his arms over his chest and let out a breathy laugh, "Believe it or not, this isn't the most messed up thing Dean's gotten himself into."

Stiles opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it. There was nothing he could say to that.

"At least I know you're human," Sam sighed. He was now sitting across from Stiles, running both of his hands down his face before crossing them back over his chest. Stiles gave him a 'duh' expression to which Sam rolled his eyes at.

"What I meant was, you're human and not some supernatural creature that took my brother's form. Like a shapeshifter," Sam sighed, "You're actually my brother. I mean, you're someone else but from what I can tell, it's still my brother's body. That part I'm still trying to figure out. How...And, why...Maybe it's a witch?"

Stiles listened to Sam, nodding his head as the man spoke. He didn't know what the hell he was talking about. Shapeshifters? Witches? The only creatures he knows about were that of a few, which he learned from the Bestiary, but he's never heard of the ones Sam keeps mentioning. He came to the conclusion that there were some supernatural creatures he and the pack still didn't know about.  _Great._ At least none of them have settled into Beacon Hills. None Stiles knows about, at least.

Sam continued going on and on about witches and how they're the one thing Dean hated the most, apart from someone named Crowley who Sam didn't give much detail on.

"Do you think your brother's in my body?" Stiles broke in, his bottom lip between his teeth, a nervous tick he picked up from way back when.

"Maybe. I mean, if you're here in his body...then he's got to be in yours, right?" Sam replied with a question.

Stiles shrugged, "I don't know. This is the first time I've been body-swapped."

Sam's lips tightened into a thin line, he looked to be in deep concentration before blurting out, "It was her... It had to be."

"What? Who?" Stiles asked, his eyes flittering around the room as if to find an answer before focusing back on the older man.

"The witch me and my brother hunted the night before," Sam said, "Dean was alone with her before I showed up...He said nothing happened, but knowing him, something must have happened."

Stiles' eyes widened, _Hunted_? "A witch? _**Hunted**_?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah, hunted. Oh," He paused, searching for the right words before he continued, "My brother and I are hunters. We protect people like you from the supernatural."

"The Supernatural?" Stiles prompted, "Like?"

Sam sighed, leaning back in his seat as he rubbed the back of his neck, "Well, there's a lot we hunt. Demons, some Angels, Wendigos, Witches, Shapeshifters, Werewolves,"

" _Werewolves_?" Stiles interjected.

"Yeah, werewolves," Sam nodded, an eyebrow raised, "Sounds like you came across one before."

_More than one, actually._

Stiles laughed, nervously, "N-No. Never met one. I'm just surprised stuff like that exists."

Sam gave another nod of his head, slower this time, "Where are you from? We might have to go there,"

"No! We can't go there," Stiles quickly blurted, cutting him off. There was no way he could let this guy anywhere near Beacon Hills, not with his friends being one of the very things this man hunted. But then he realized...Dean might be in his body. And if his friends don't know that's not Stiles, they might expose what they are to him and there's no telling what Dean would do.

"On second thought, I think we should definitely go there."

 

 

 **⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻  
** **_TO BE CONTINUED..._ **


	3. Baby Gap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 09.19.17 :  
> And here's the long-awaited chapter three! xx

**A/** N : **REAL QUICK, before we get into the chapter.  
** **Can we just take a moment to appreciate this cover I made for Wattpad. :"D**

**  
ANYWAY, onward my wayward children. /end of a/n/**

 

 

**⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻** **_  
BEACON HILLS, CA_ **

 

 

The car ride back to the high school felt excruciatingly long. Dean wanted to tuck and roll out of the jeep from how quiet it was. After telling them he wasn't Stiles, one would think after a reveal like that they would be asking questions or flipping out, or at the very least they would dismiss him and call him a liar. But not this. Not the silent treatment he's been receiving since they left that diner.

"Sooo, what now?"

Dean tried starting up a conversation but all he got in response were adverted gazes.

 _ **Great** , now I'm getting the silent treatment_.

"At least I gotta eat some good pie before you kill me," Dean mumbled. "Fair warning though; if anything happens to me, my brother will come down on all of you like the God of Thunder," He warned them after another long minute of silence.

When they didn't respond, Dean sighed. He was both frustrated and annoyed. Why weren't they saying anything? At the very least they should be freaking out, and calling him a liar. Or, did they not believe him? Maybe they did believe him, and they were taking him somewhere private to question him without witnesses.  _Crap_. He really hoped he wasn't going to have to fight his way through a bunch of teenagers.

"We're not going to kill you," Scott finally spoke. He didn't take his gaze off the road when Dean looked over at him. He could tell from the way Scott's eyebrows furrowed, and the way his jaw clenched and unclenched that he was deep in thought. No doubt trying to figure out how any of this could even be possible.

"If what you're saying is true, then we won't hurt you. Well, we won't hurt Stiles, and right now that means  _you_  since you're in his body," Allison added from the backseat.

"How about you tell us more about yourself? I mean, how do we know--"

"That I'm not some psycho killer hiding out in your friend's body?" Dean cut Lydia off. He sighed, his head rolling over to the side so that he was now staring out the window. What could he say? It was clear they believed him, but why? Could he trust these people enough to tell them about himself? He looked out the corner of his eyes before aimlessly staring out the window again; of course, he couldn't.

"My name's Dean," Dean began. "Not  _Stiles_. I know I'm in Beacon Hills, California, but I don't know how I got here. And apparently, I switched bodies with this kid who is no doubt living it up in my body somewhere n Lebanon, Kansas," He paused to catch his breath, before adding, "And this is totally unrelated, but this piece-of-crap jeep is a death trap waiting to happen."

And there it was, again. The deafening silence that came with the wires turning inside their heads, absorbing this information that he gave them. Trying to figure out if he's telling the truth or feeding them lies. They could at the very least let him play some music while they decide to torture him or not.

Dean moved around in the passenger seat, his eyes flittering from the confused looks he received from the backseat to Scott's. It was kind of funny to see that look on anyone else other than Cass, the look he would give when he didn't fully understand something. Lydia looked skeptical, which he couldn't blame her. If it hadn't been for the crap he knew, he'd think he was full of shit, too.

"Can this kind of stuff happen?" Kira asked Scott, finally breaking the silence. She continued, "Has it happened to any of you before?" Scott was staring out the windshield, his grip on the steering wheel left his knuckles almost white. It's like he was trying to find any signs of dishonesty from the silence.

"It's never happened before," Lydia piped up. Her skeptical tone matching her features.

Allison joined in, "What if just lost his memory, and thinks he's someone else?" Unlike sassy-Red, she seemed annoyed by the whole situation. As if they had better things to do than goof around, they're teenagers. What could they possibly be doing other than being teenagers? Dean shrugged it off, focusing his attention back on the conversation at hand.

"I feel sorry for whoever wakes up one day and they're me," Dean grimaced. He fiddled with the hem of his shirt, pulling and tugging at its seams. It was nothing new to him when he spoke about self-loathing, but from the corner of his eyes, it caught Scott off-guard. Probably because it didn't sound right coming out of Stiles' mouth in  _his_  voice.

Everyone but Scott glossed over what he said as if they didn't hear him.

"Scott, what do you think?" Kira asked. Scott gave a quick glance to the awaiting gaze in the back, before looking back at the road ahead.

"I don't know what to think. But I do know he's telling the truth," Scott said. That surprised Dean, that and considering how crazy the situation was, they all seemed so calm about it. Whereas any other normal person would be flipping their lid, but not them. It left a question in the back of his mind, what else have they seen that would send most running?

Scott, however, interrupted his thoughts by continuing, "We should wait to tell the others about this, so let's keep it between us for now. Okay? At least until after school."

The first thing to pop into Dean's head was, why? Judging from how close they all seemed, he was sure they didn't keep secrets from each other. Especially nothing as big as one of their friends switching bodies with someone. But, again, Scott surprised him.

"Okay," They said in unison. For a minute there, it looked like they would argue the idea of keeping it from their friends, but they reluctantly agreed with Scott that it would be better if they waited.

Dean slouched back into the passenger seat, his eyes closing as he let his mind run wild about what just happened, and what's going to happen.

**⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻**

Just as Scott said, no one mentioned a thing to their other friends when they arrived back at the high school. Dean was more than a little surprised at how good they were at pretending everything was alright. Going along their day, and treating him like he was actually Stiles and it was just another normal day.

Dean was just finishing up his third to last period, and ready to go home. Or Stiles' home, anyway. He's always disliked school growing up, the long hours and terrible food. Not to mention, his family never stuck in one place too long for him to even start to like it. Right now, all he wanted to do was sleep. That and figure out how the hell to switch back to his own body because being a teenager is exhausting.

But like most things in his life, Dean doesn't get his way. Not when he saw Scott jogging up to him, a large stick in the teen's hand.

"Here," Scott said, handing the large stick over to Dean. He furrowed his eyebrows as he inspected the object placed in his hands, wondering what the hell it was for. "You're gonna need that for lacrosse practice," Scott added, noticing Dean's confused expression.

"La--what, what?" Dean asked. Although he's heard of the sport, he didn't actually have a clue as to what it was, or how one would even go about playing it.

Scott looked to be in a rush, so Dean dismissed his own question with a wave of his hand and said, "I'll figure it out."

"Good, because we're meeting after school. I'll see you there, right?" Scott asked.

Dean's nose crinkled at the thought of more school activities and frowned at the ground. He could just bail right now and skip last period, but something told him that Scott would no doubt find him. Instead, he asked, "Can't I just skip practice and sit on the bleachers?"

"I'll see you at practice, Stiles," Scott smirked, clearly amused by Dean's lack enthusiasm. He shook his head at Dean, not giving him a straight answer as he jogged past him.

Dean called out after him, "Hey, that didn't answer my question!" He sighed, frustrated as he watched Scott jog around a corner and out of his sight. He didn't want to spend any more time at this school than he already had to.

"I don't even know what  _la-crotch_ is!"

**⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻**

It took all of his last two periods to figure out what lacrosse was and how to play it. He's never spent so much time watching videos of guys tossing a ball around.  _Well, I've watched videos of guys but not like this_ \-- He willed the thought to go away, now wasn't the time.

Still, Dean couldn't believe Scott sent two of his friends to retrieve him. Isaac and Liam, he later came to find out, cornered him in the hallway as he was on his way to the lacrosse field. They claimed Scott told them to make sure he was coming but gave no explanation as to why he wouldn't in the first place. For someone who doesn't want to seem suspicious, this is a hell of a lot suspicious. He had half a mind to fight them off, and just bail like he originally planned. But in the end, he went along with them.

Now, here on the bench, Dean sat with a pout on his lips and his arms crossed over his chest. He watched with utter boredom as they practiced. He couldn't help to think why Scott has him here if he wasn't going to be practicing. He figured it was just to keep an eye on him because he was afraid Dean might hightail it out of Beacon Hills.

"This is stupid," Dean mumbled. He thought he did so quietly to himself, but it was apparently loud enough for the two pairs of ears on either side of him.

"What is?" Liam asked. Dean found out e was the youngest among Scott's friends, had just barely turned seventeen. He had short dark-brown hair that would get in his eyes from time to time. The color was slightly lighter than Scott's, but not by much.

"Me, here, on this bench," Dean huffed. Isaac scoffed from his right side, a condescending smirk spreading throughout his features. The moment Dean's met this kid, he's annoyed the hell out of him. From the tallness of his tall to his killer jawline, and the kids stupid short, curly chocolate hair. At first, it was cute, but only because he somewhat reminded him of his brother. Now, however, now it's just ridiculous. Especially since Isaac  _knows_ he's annoying him.

_He's just trying to provoke you._

_Don't fall for it._

_Just ignore him--  
_

" ** _What?_** "

_Damn it._

Isaac's smirk only widened when Dean fell into his trap, "You suck at lacrosse, Stiles, that's why you're on the bench," Isaac chuckled, a satisfied grin appearing when he noticed Dean's grimace.

Dean couldn't even bring himself to think of a good retort other than, "Shut up." He grumbled more to himself, his arms crossing over his chest as he glared out at the field in front of him. He was almost convinced every tall guy was out to get him, especially ones with long chocolate wavy locks.

"And, you know what, I could play lacrosse if I wanted to," Dean found himself saying before it was too late.

"Really?" Isaac queried, his eyebrows raised.

_Crap._

"Y-yeah," Dean stammered, slightly. He tried his damnedest to sound confident, but he had no clue how to play this freaking game, no matter how many videos he spent watching.

"You don't sound very confident," Isaac made sure to point it out, too.

"Leave him alone," Kira chimed in from behind them. Her sudden presence damn near scared Dean out of his seat. He nearly forgot she was here from how quiet she's been, which was surprising considering she was the only chick on the team.

"He's not feeling himself today. Right, Stiles?" Kira added, bringing Dean out of his thoughts as her attention was now directed at him.

"Uh, right. I'm not feeling good," Dean confirmed. For a minute there, he wondered if Kira purposefully made it sound suspicious. Then she gave him a quick wink, leaving him to believe this was her first time trying to keep something from her friends.

Isaac, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice. Or he did and just can't be bothered enough to care as all he did was shrug his shoulders and give a brooding teenager, "Whatever."

"So, what does Scott need to talk to us about? I heard him telling Jackson that we're having a meeting at Derek's," Liam spoke up.

_Who the hell is Jackson?_

Dean sighed, tuning them out as they dove into a new conversation. He thought he had met everyone already. And just the thought of meeting more people made him want to run away. It was mainly because of all the names he'll have to learn.

Because so far, Dean's met Stiles' dad first. Then it was Scott, Kira, Lydia, and Allison. And later he met Liam and Isaac. Now there's this Jackson kid, and someone named Derek. How many friends could Scott possibly have? The entirety of Beacon Hills? Dean figured the reason it seemed strange to him was that the majority of his friends had already left him one way or another.

Dean yet again willed the last bit of his thoughts away. He had no time to be wallowing in his own self-pity. First, he needs to get through this lacrosse practice without actually playing, and without starting a fight with Isaac.

And that was becoming harder to do by the minute.

**⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻**

"Was it really necessary to shove all of these people inside this rink-a-dink jeep?" Dean asked. He was seated in the passenger seat with Scott driving. Not just because he refused to drive this blue death trap, but because he had no idea where this Derek guys loft was.

"We can hear you," Malia hissed from the rear. He found out her name from Lydia, the girl kind of looked angry all the time, and she had medium length light-brown hair. She seemed pretty hostile towards Stiles from the moment Dean met her. He came to find out that she and Stiles use to be a thing, so he figured that's why she seemed to dislike him.

"Good for you," Dean mocked.

There was a low growl that came as a response, it sounded inhuman. Dean, however, didn't get enough time to think anymore about it when Scott spoke up.

"We're almost there," Scott said. He glanced back at the girl in the rearview mirror, Malia only huffed as a response.

Dean couldn't help to stare at the boy next to him, one eyebrow arched up high. "What?" Scott asked, noticing his staring.

"Nothing. It's just that, they sure as hell obey you like some kinda dog would its owner," Dean pointed out. He noticed it from Scott's interactions with his friends, it started out small at first. Like, Liam doing whatever his older friend asked. But then it got weird when it seemed like a fight was going to break out, and all eyes went straight to Scott searching for a green light to take action.

Dean took note of the nervous glance Lydia and Allison exchanged. Malia, from what he could hear, seemed offended by the remark because she snarled, again. But unlike the others, Scott kept his cool. He didn't say anything, but his silence spoke volumes.

They were hiding something, that much he knew.

**⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻**

Half an hour later, Dean and the rest of the Scooby gang arrived at this Derek guys loft. If anything were to scream  _'There are bodies in these walls'_ , it would be this place. It was that creepy. And it didn't help that they were all just standing around in front of the building like true creepers with the jeep parked a block away.

"Yeah, I'm not going in there," Dean demurred. He figured they were no doubt luring him inside so they could tie him up and beat him until he screamed uncle.

There was a scoff that came from behind him, and of course, it was Isaac with that same damned condescending smirk right back on his stupid face. Like he knew something Dean didn't, which he probably did.

_Don't hit him. Don't hit him._

_Whatever you do, just do **not**  hit him._

"It's not like you haven't been here before," Isaac snickered. "I'm sure you were even here by yourself at one point, huh?" Chocolate-Curls teased. It made Dean uncomfortable, not because there seemed to be a hint of jealousy in the boy's tone, but it also seemed too flirtatious.

"Maybe he's scared to face him after what happened," Another voice suggested. It was Jackson. Dean remembered when he finally got to put a face to that name. He noticed how the kid almost kind of looked like him, a younger version anyway. It freaked him out for a solid minute.

_Wait--what happened?_

Dean almost found himself asking that question, but stopped himself. He couldn't let it slip now that he wasn't Stiles, not when Scott said he should be the one to explain first.

"Hello? Are you guys forgetting why we're here?" Lydia interrupted. She had her arms folded over her chest, and eyebrows raised at the three boys.

"No, actually, we don't," Isaac sassed.

"Come on, guys," Scott interjected. He walked past them and headed in the direction of the building's entrance. Dean felt a shiver run up his spine when he looked up towards the building, again. He didn't want to go up there, but there was no way he wanted to be left behind in the even-creepier neighborhood.

_The damn place still gives me the creeps._

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

_Why ... are ... there ... so ... many ... freakin' ... stairs--_

Dean leaned against the wall near the stairs once he reached the top. He fell behind to catch his breath and watched as Scott stood in front of a large steel door. The boy momentarily glanced over his shoulders and back at him. Why? He had no idea, nor did he have time to think about it before Scott turned back around and gripped the door tightly, sliding it all the way back.

Everyone except the four who knew Stiles wasn't Stiles began walking inside. No one seemed to notice or care when the others stayed back as well. Or if they did, no one said anything about it.

"Alright, if things get crazy, stay behind me. Okay?" Scott said. His voice was lower than usual, too low that Dean almost didn't catch what he said.

_Crazy?_

"Why would--"

"Okay," The other three said in unison. They obviously didn't want to explain right now why they're being even more secretive, and Dean really couldn't be bothered with an explanation at this point. All he wanted to do was go home.  _His_  home. To  _his_  body.

Once they were inside the loft, Isaac closed the steel door. It made a loud sound that caused Dean to jump, slightly. Isaac took notice and made sure to snicker at him.

_Bitch._

"Why are we here?" A deep voice asked, clearly impatient.

Dean matched the voice to the buff man in the corner. The one who looked angry, and he briefly wondered if he was related to Malia. He couldn't put a name to his brooding eyebrows, however, but he did notice the far too tight shirt the man was wearing.

"Is there a new threat we don't know about?" Another man questioned. He had a voice smooth as silk.

Dean followed everyone else's gaze to Scott, and the look on his face was clear. He had no idea where to even begin explaining Dean's situation to his friends.

"You're here because of me," Dean spoke up instead.

_Great, now they're all staring at you._

"You? And why's that?" Baby-shirt queried. He still looked beyond pissed off, but there was a faint worry to his tone.

"What new mess did you get into now, Stiles?" Another voice joined in. Dean matched the voice to the face behind Baby-shirt.

_Yet another buff dude wearing tiny clothes._

_Do they all shop at Baby Gap?_

"I don't know about Stiles, but I pissed off a witch," Dean informed them with a shrug of his shoulders.

There was silence, followed by pure looks of confusion from everyone.

"What he means is; he's not Stiles. His name's Dean," Scott explained. Everyone's look of confusion was quickly replaced by skepticism, to which Scott added, "And before you argue that he's lying, I've already listened to his heartbeat. He's telling the truth."

_Listened to my, what?--_

"You can't be serious?" Isaac scoffed.

"This is a hundred percent serious, Chocolate Swirl. I'm trapped in a teenagers body,  _again_ ," Dean snarled.

Isaac drew his shoulders back and growled in response, clearly ready to toss Dean right into the nearest wall. Dean matched his stance, he's never been known to back down from a fight. He wasn't going to start now.

"Calm down," Scott commanded. The boy making sure he was standing between Dean and Isaac who both looked about ready to tear each other's throats out. "We need to work together to figure out how to get them to switch bodies," Scott added.

"Even if he's telling the truth, there's no way we'd know how to send him back to his body," Brooding Eyebrows broke in.

"We were hoping Deaton might know something," Scott said. His attention turning to the bald man with the silky smooth voice and dark complexion.

Dean was confused, "Is he some kind of supernatural expert?"

"I'm a veterinarian," Deaton informed.

"A veterinarian? How the hell is a  _veterinarian_  going to help me?" Dean snapped. His attention turning to back to Scott in the hopes he'd give him a straight answer this time.

When Scott didn't say anything, Lydia spoke up instead, "He also happens to be a druid emissary."

Dean sighed, relieved someone was finally giving him real answers. "Now we're getting somewhere," He mumbled to himself.

"But I don't see how a guide of the supernatural is going to help me. Not unless he knows a witch who can break or cast spells, then I don't think he's gonna be much help," Dean said.

"You know what a druid is?" Deaton asked, surprised.

_Crap._

"How old are you, anyway?" Kira interrupted.

_Bless you, tiny samurai._

"Too old to still be in high school, that's for sure," Dean answered. He didn't answer straight, but he was happy for the subject change. And although Kira seemed satisfied by his answer, some did not.

"Old like, 20? Or 40?" Liam asked. Isaac chuckled, "He's probably almost 50."

" _I'm not almost 50,_ " Dean hissed as he glared at the tall curly-bag-of-dicks.

"Then how old are you, Father Time?" Isaac provoked.

Dean growled in the back of his throat, his arms crossing over his chest. "38," He answered, proudly.

"Wow. You are old," Jackson commented. Dean was ready to argue with the lot of them, but Lydia interrupted, again.

"Guys! Did you forget again why we're here?" Lydia sighed, clearly frustrated.

"Look, I just want my body back. I don't wanna be stuck as this scrawny kid anymore. And I sure as hell don't wanna be surrounded by weird teenagers who follow Scott around like a lost pup. So, can you help me out or now?" Dean said. His words rushed out, but he figured they could keep up.

Dean's hunter instincts had wonders of making itself known. For instance, they were telling him to hightail it out of there and don't look back. And he had half-a-mind to listen to those instincts, but something else told him to wait it out and that's what he'll do.

Deaton gave a slow, but an affirmative nod of his head to let Dean know that he had all of their attention and concentration. "Do you remember anything before you woke up as Stiles?" He asked after a moment of thinking.

In a flash of memories, Dean thought back to the night before he woke up as Stiles.

"Where do I begin..."

**⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻  
** ****_Flashback_ ** **

_'Whoa, wait_... _you want us to go where?'_

_Dean stood in his brother's doorway, watching him pack up his bags with his arms folded over his chest. Sam sighed and looked over at his brother, but before he turned back to do what he was doing, he spoke._

_'Riverside, California.'_

_Until now, the Winchester's haven't been doing much hunting, not after what happened to their Angel-friend, Castiel. And as a result, Dean made it his number one priority to fix his friend, but with what little knowledge they had about what happened to him, it wasn't easy. In fact, it was difficult, and almost every lead Dean came across left the brothers running around in circles. And because of this, Sam searched online for a case, deciding that they should get back to doing what they do best. Luckily, he found one immediately, and in Riverside, California. Turned out, there were a bunch of teenagers going missing, then showing up two days later dead in a forest near the town, it all seemed like a simple Witch hunt._

_'And why the hell would we go way out there? Don't you think we should focus on fixing, oh I don't know, the giant freakin' tear in our universe?'_

_Sam let out another sigh and stopped what he was doing, then looked at his brother._

_'We don't even know where to begin with that, Dean. And even if we did, what are we going to do? We don't even know what happened to mom. So, until we can figure that out, we're going to continue hunting like we've always done. We can't just stop helping people, Dean, and I found us a case there.'_

_Dean looked like he wanted to argue some more, but decided against it with a frustrated sigh._

_'I know it sucks that we can't-do anything right now, Dean. But we will. We always find a way.'_

_'Yeah, whatever. Just tell me about the case.'_

_Grabbing his bags, Sam gave his brother a sympathetic smile. He made sure to pat Dean on his shoulder as he left his bedroom, and headed down the hallway towards the library of the bunker. Dean was following right behind him, quiet as he waited for Sam to tell him about the case in California._

_'Well, from what I've read, four teenagers went missing from a lake house party. They turned up dead two days later, though, and from what the crime scene suggests, it looks like sacrifices.'_

_'Sacrifices?'_

_'Yeah, each vic was killed in the same place, but the way they were killed is why I think it's sacrificial killings.'_

_'What do you mean?'_

_Dean asked as they entered the library, and watched Sam lay his bags on top of the table nearest the entrance. Sam took the seat that had his laptop in front of it, leaving Dean to take the seat across from him, and watched as his brother turned his laptop on from sleep mode._

_'Well, the first vic had their tongue cut out_   _-the second vic had their eyes removed_   _-the third vic had their ears removed_   _-and the fourth vic had their throat slit, with their vocal chords missing.'_

_'Dude, that's gross. What the hell are we dealing with here?'_

_'I know. I'm thinking it's witches.'_

_Dean grimaced, there was nothing he hated more than witches_   _-except maybe Lucifer, and his devoted legion of demons._

_'I freaking hate witches, man. But what makes you think that it's witches?'_

_' **I know** ,' Sam gave a short laugh before he continued speaking, 'Because, when I dug online to find a connection to the killings and sacrificial killings_  _-I found out that some witch covens would need to spill blood for their ancestors in order to use dark magic. Since they can't spill the blood of innocence, it's the blood of those who have done a terrible wrong.'_

_'They're a bunch of kids, what could they have done that was so wrong that it got 'em killed?'_

_Sam gave a shrug of his shoulders as he got up from his sleep, and closed his laptop, packing it away in one of his bags._

_'No idea. But we'll find out when we get there.'_

**⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻  
**

_'Dean, you're acting weird. Are you sure you're okay?'_

_'Dude, I'm fine. I'm just tired.'_

_That wasn't the full truth._

_He was, in fact, tired, but before his brother arrived, Dean had a one on one with the witch. She said something under her breath just before Sam killed her, it all happened so fast, leaving no time for him to question her about what she said. And ever since then, he's had this uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, like something bad was boiling inside of him, and it was ready to burst at any moment._

_The thing is; when they first arrived in Riverside, it didn't take very long for the brothers to find and catch the witch who had been sacrificing teenagers. Sam, in fact, thought that it was a little too easy. That the whole thing seemed like a setup, which earned him an argument from Dean, the older brother asking 'a setup for what?_   _-and_ _who would hire some low rate Witch, and for what reason?' He continued to say that Sam should just drop it and that they just got lucky on this one. Sam still didn't believe that, but he didn't argue any further with his brother, deciding to let Dean believe what he wanted._

_'Let's just go home, man.'_

_Once back at the motel they were staying at, Dean walked into their room and headed straight for the bed closest to the door, and threw himself face first onto it. Letting out an exhausted sigh, he closed his eyes and tried his best to fall asleep. Lately, he's had a lack of sleep because Cass was constantly at the back of his mind. There was a part of Dean that couldn't help and feel bad about being here, thinking he should be giving every ounce of his energy to finding a way to bring Cass back. But Sam was right_   _-not that he'd tell him that_   _-but t_ _hey can't just stop hunting because of their current situation. Especially if they had no way of fixing said situation._

_'We'll rest up, and then leave first thing in the morning. Night, Dee.'_

_Dean gave a tight squeeze of his eyes, his face turned upright to the ceiling. And as he drifted off to sleep, the uneasy feeling in his stomach only grew._

**_END OF FLASHBACK  
_ ** ****⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻** **

"And that's what happened, a typical witch hunt went wrong. That's how I'm pretty sure it was a witch, too. Nasty sons of bitches hold grudges," Dean finished, then added, "But the only thing I don't get is why I switched bodies with Stiles."

"So, you're a hunter?" Brooding Eyebrows grimaced.

_Crap._

Dean was met with a looming silence as all eyes were on him, again. This time they looked cautious, even angry one might say. It wasn't like he could avoid the fact that he was a hunter, they would have found out one way or another.

_Wait--why are they mad?_

"Derek, relax. We have to help him to get Stiles back," Scott said.

Derek gave a snarl, but subsided as Deaton spoke, "Have you tried contacting your brother since you woke up?"

"In other words, you want to know if Stiles is actually in my body like I'm in his?" Dean questioned back. Deaton gave small smile, cautious like the others. "I don't know," He went on, "When I called my brother, all I got was his stupid voicemail."

"But there's a good chance Stiles might be in your body?" Scott asked.

"That's what I'm hoping," Dean answered, truthfully. He wasn't going to lie to them because there was a slight chance that Stiles might not even be in his body. And that worried him, not only for the teenager's safety but for his body and where it could actually be if not with his brother.

"Then we should start by calling your brother, again," Derek demanded. His hand gesturing for Dean to hurry and use Stiles' phone.

"Alright, alright, Baby Gap," Dean huffed. He patted himself down, searching for the teen's phone he had tucked away earlier. He pulled it out from his back pocket once he found it, and then quickly turned it on. He wasted no time as he dialed his brother's number.

Dean pressed the phone to his ear, a nervous sigh escaping passed his lips. Everyone seemed just as impatient as he was waiting for the other end to ring. When it finally did ring, it continued to do so for what seemed like forever. He could practically touch the tension in the room.

"Hello?! Hello!?" An urgent voice answered Sam's phone. Dean nearly dropped Stiles' phone upon immediately recognizing the voice that answered, and it definitely wasn't his brother's.

It was  _his own voice_.

 

 

**⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻  
 _TO BE CONTINUED..._**


End file.
